


The Third Murphy

by NoWayToHandleThings



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, How Do I Tag, Miscarriage, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-12 03:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoWayToHandleThings/pseuds/NoWayToHandleThings
Summary: Cynthia woke up to a pain in her abdomen, and her first thought was that period cramps sucked. Her second thought was that she shouldn't be having a period.(Aka I love Cynthia but causing fictional characters pain is fun)(Aaka the mobile tagging system sucks and it's five am have fun)





	1. Chapter 1

Cynthia awoke and something felt different. There was a persistent queasiness, which should have eased by now. She hadn't felt it for weeks. It should have gone. She searched the net and everything said it was fine, morning sickness came and went whenever it damn well pleased. But Cynthia knew her body and was on edge. This hadn't happened with her other children.

When her husband kissed her before he left for work, it felt less like a kiss and more like lips touching lips. Connor and Zoe were sent to elementary school with lunch money, rather than lunch, and an apology. She was sorry, she said, but she wasn't feeling well and she couldn't get herself to make anything.

When she started feeling dizzy, Cynthia decided to drink some water and take a nap. If she wasn't feeling better after that, she'd call the doctor. It was probably unnecessary but she couldn't shake the feeling that she should. So she went to bed, took a few deep breaths, and managed to calm down enough to fall asleep.

She woke up to a pain in her abdomen, and her first thought was that period cramps sucked. Her second thought was that she shouldn't be having a period. Wincing, Cynthia sat up and looked down at the sheets.

Red everywhere. It looked like a horror movie. Cynthia's breath was knocked out of her. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't breathe. There was a long moment where she existed nowhere. Felt nothing. And suddenly, life came rushing back and she needed to do something.

Phone, she needed a phone. Phone. Bedside table. Bedside table. There it was. Her fingers typed in something, she wasn't quite aware what. 

A bored voice answered, “Gibson, Murphy and Crutcher, this is Joseph, how can I help you?”

“Larry. Murphy. I'm. Uh. I'm his wife I need to...”

“Putting you through.” 

It took a minute or so, the longest minute Cynthia had ever been through, but she eventually heard him and it was about as close to a relief as she could get.

“Hey. Joseph said you didn't sound too good. What's up, is Connor in trouble?”

“I'm… I'm… there's so much blood, it hurts, I can't -” He interrupted her, thank god, and he seemed to have gotten the message.

“Oh. Christ. I'm gonna call you an ambulance, okay? You're at home?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll stay on the line until they come get you. We can meet at the hospital. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.” Cynthia thought she heard his voice break. But she couldn't focus on that. Or anything, really. She just clutched her stomach and closed her eyes, trying to pretend everything was fine. In the distance, she could hear Larry's voice saying the word she'd been avoiding to the operator. It hurt just as much as she thought it would. 

He reassured her over and over, she could hear him becoming less and less calm, the ambulance came closer and closer. Eventually, Cynthia could hear the doorbell, but getting up was too painful.

“Larry, they're here. I can't move. Tell them that the door is unlocked.”

Larry sighed. “Okay. I'm going to head to the hospital when somebody is with you. General, the woman said.” 

A few minutes later, a paramedic rushed into Cynthia's room and then everything was a blur. She remembered hanging up, being asked to rate her pain from one to ten, moved from a bed to a stretcher to a bed, examinations on examinations, but they all smeared together.

The next thing that was concrete was “I'm sorry, Mrs. Murphy. I can't find a heartbeat.”


	2. Chapter 2

Zoe was in story time when one of the office ladies knocked on the door and said that Zoe and Connor had to go to the Harrises’ after school because her mommy wasn't feeling well. She didn't know why it meant that Daddy couldn't look after them but the Harrises gave her animal crackers so she was OK. 

When school was done Connor looked upset. Zoe grabbed his hand and brought him to Mr Harris’s car because maybe he was just sad cause he couldn't find it. But he was still sad in the car and even after.

Mrs Harris had left them with animal crackers and milk and The Lion King when Zoe asked what was up. “Connor, why are you sad? We get animal crackers and you get to watch a movie before homework and this house smells nice.”

“Mommy must be really sick. Even when I was very very sick with the flu I was allowed to be in the same house with everyone. What if she has cancer? My old kindergarten teacher got cancer and she couldn’t be a teacher for ages and ages and then she came back with no hair.”

Zoe got really scared. Mommy had really pretty hair and what if she stopped being Mommy for ages and ages? Zoe ate some more crackers and hummed along with the movie so she didn't have to think about it. 

But then they got to the part where the papa lion falls off the cliff and Connor started crying. So Zoe started crying. So Mrs Harris came back into the room, and Connor said, “What if Mommy dies?” And Mrs Harris hugged them but she wasn't their mommy and it felt wrong and bad.

Eventually, Daddy came to get them and he spent forever talking to Mrs Harris. But they got in the car and Zoe started asking the questions. Connor was quiet as a mouse.

“Daddy, does Mommy have cancer?”

“No, Zoe. She doesn't have cancer. Where did you even -”

“Is Mommy going to die? Is she died already?”

“It's  _ dead _ , sweetie, and no, nothing like that. She's going to be fine.”

“Does she have chicken pox?”

“No.”

There were a lot more of these questions, Zoe had to know everything. But then Connor asked something, really quietly, but it got Daddy's attention. 

“Dad? Is the baby sick?”

Daddy grabbed the steering wheel hard. “Connor… I…”

It took a moment or two before Connor asked again but he did. “If Mommy is sick and the baby is in her tummy, is the baby sick?”

“So, Mommy is going to be just fine, I promise, but the baby… isn't.” Zoe didn't understand. The baby wasn't even born, it couldn't be sick. Daddy went on. “The baby… it died in Mom’s tummy. She's very sad, and I'm very sad, and I don't really want to talk about it anymore.” Connor looked sad too, and he looked down at his feet. But Zoe didn't know what was going on.

“I don't get it. Why did it die? Am I still going to be a big sister? Did somebody throw Mommy's tummy off a cliff like in Lion King? Why are you sad if you never even met the baby? Can I see it?”

Then Daddy shouted at her. “ _ Zoe!  _ Can you _ please  _ just…” he suddenly sounded less angry and more tired. “Please be quiet. I don't want to answer those questions just now. I love you, sweetheart, but I need you to be quiet for a little while.”

So Zoe was quiet for the whole rest of the journey and even dinner, except to ask for corn on her pizza. She didn't get to see Mommy, but Mommy was sad, and sometimes you don't want to see people when you're sad. She was quiet until she went to bed and Daddy tucked her in, when she just had to ask one thing. 

“If the baby who wasn't even born yet can die, does that mean I can?”

Daddy's face did a strange shape and Zoe couldn't tell what it meant. But he said, “Look. Technically yes, but you're not going to die, not for a very long time, okay? It's not allowed.” He laughed but it might have been a cry.

The bed was warm and soft and cosy, so instead of asking for a story, Zoe just snuggled up to her favourite stuffed bunny and said, “Night night, Daddy.”

He kissed her on the forehead before saying back, “Night night, Zoe. I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Larry held his wife, and he wasn't sure if that was for her benefit or his. She was alive, at least. She was shaking and not responding to anything, but she was alive and here and something he could cling to. Something he could use to connect himself to the world. It wasn't right to use a person as a life raft, especially one who was in such pain. But with the kids in bed, it was the only thing left to do to keep himself afloat.

Night after night this went on. Cynthia stopped bleeding, but she didn't stop crying. Larry broke when her back was turned, and glued himself together when she looked. She needed strength from him, not weakness. 

They decided to bury the remains in a small wooden box in the garden. The box was engraved with “Theo/Sinead Murphy” and filled with lavender and a little teddy bear, supposedly to keep the embryo company. Larry didn't think he got it, but he wasn't going to stop his wife from making herself feel better.

The funeral could hardly be called that, it was smaller than some pet funerals and there wasn't even a priest, but Cynthia still had to lean on Larry to stand up. When everything was done, all the pointless words and platitudes, she planted a few white lily bulbs in the makeshift grave and stayed by it, sitting in the cold for hours until Larry took her inside.

The flowers grew and died, but nothing seemed to change. Cynthia no longer went into hysterics every night, but she would barely speak and she spent all her time either in the garden or the bed. It was a good day if she could say a word to the kids, and Larry was getting exhausted by trying to keep on top of everything. 

There were only so many times you could heat up a can of soup, and he had no time to cook anything else. His job didn't just stop because his family was going through a hard time. There were depositions and opening arguments to review, briefs to write, and cases to prepare. That took up more than eight hours on a normal day, and there was so much else going on he had no time to breathe. 

Larry hadn't realised how much he needed the space family dinners gave until he was eating noodles alone in the kitchen over a pile of performance reviews while his wife was almost certainly in turmoil and his kids were probably in need of attention and Jesus Christ.

One day he couldn't deal with everything. There wasn't necessarily a reason. But Cynthia was out in the garden again, in the dark and the rain, in the middle of the night, and Larry just snapped. But his better judgement kept him as civil as he could be.

“Cynthia, do you have to spend all your time out here?”

She didn't even look up. Her response was basically inaudible. “I…”

She couldn't even just give a straightforward answer. Fucking hell, just say yes or no, Larry wouldn't have cared. 

“Cynthia. It's been months. I know how hard it is, believe me, but you have to try to move on.”

The expression on Cynthia's face would have broken his heart on any other day. She looked shocked and terrified. Innocent. But then she spoke.

“You think I'm not  _ trying? _ I'm sorry I can't just forget the death of my child like you can.”

And fuck, this was his last nerve. Any semblance of politeness shattered with that last phrase. 

“Oh, of course. I forgot, because I'm picking up your slack. I forgot, because I actually spend time with our other children. I forgot, about the loss of a thing we tried for  _ over a year _ to get _ ,  _ because I have to look after you, make sure you eat, and shower, and sleep, while also doing my actual fucking job! How could I be so insensitive!”

So he may have gone too far, but he couldn't control himself. It felt terrible, but it also felt incredible. Cynthia looked like he'd just hit her.

She said something about carrying the child inside her and he couldn't possibly understand, but honestly Larry couldn't even hear the exact words. Just the accusatory tone and his wife playing the victim, which was getting old. So he just started shouting over her, which. Wasn't nice but he didn't care anymore.

“Jesus Christ, Cyn, you act like you're the only one who lost anything. I had to teach our children about death. Connor had to go to the school nurse because he was crying too much and got a headache. You say you need time, but it's never occurred to you that I might? I lost a baby too, Cynthia. I… I lost it too.”

Larry was probably crying, so thank god for the rain. His head was a lot closer to the ground than he remembered it being. It felt like there was a wet hand on his back, but he couldn't be sure of anything. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was dark outside and Connor couldn't sleep. He thought he'd maybe gone to sleep for a little bit and woken up, but he didn't know why he would have woken up. Eddie, Connor's favourite bear, was so tightly hugged to his chest it almost hurt. Connor realised that he was scared. It made no sense, he didn't have anything to be scared of, but he was still scared.

There was a noise outside the door, and Connor's first thought was that there was a monster. Monsters weren't real. It was all going to be fine. But what if there _was_ a monster? He'd better check. So Connor, holding Eddie's hand for safety, opened the door and peeped outside, just to see. Just in case.

It was just Mommy. She was walking around in her PJs and her hair was everywhere. But mommies were good at making you not scared, so he decided to go see her. She didn't seem to notice him, but the hall was dark so Connor decided to tap her to get attention. When he did this, she jumped and made a noise, but she turned around and saw him.

Her face was weird. It was hard to tell what it meant. Mommy was usually sad, though, so that was what Connor decided to go with.

“Mommy? I can't sleep and I'm scared. Eddie isn't even helping me sleep.”

Mommy sounded tired, which made sense because it was nighttime. “Have you tried pretending to be asleep?”

“Yes. And I've tried reading and I've tried everything but I still can't sleep. What do I do?”

Mommy sighed and Connor felt bad. But she took his hand, the one that didn't have Eddie, and said, “OK, sweetie. Let's get you some warm milk.”

There was something in Mommy's other hand but it was hard to figure out what it was. It was still dark. So while they were going downstairs, he asked.

“Mommy, what are you holding?”

Mommy stopped walking. There was a while before she kept going and said, “It… it's just a bottle of medicine, Connor. Don't worry. It helps your daddy sleep sometimes.”

Connor wrinkled his eyebrows. “Then why do you have it?”

Mommy stopped walking again, even though they were nearly at the kitchen. She breathed in and out really loud. “It’s very complicated, honey, someone will tell you when you're older.”

“Can I have some? It might work better than milk.”

“No!” Mommy sounded scared. But then she calmed down a little. “No, Connor, because it is very dangerous to take medicine your doctor didn't tell you to. I'm sorry I snapped. Now let's find a sippy cup for your milk, huh?” She turned on the light in the kitchen and they both squinted.

Connor didn't think he really needed a sippy cup but he didn't mind. Mommy picked him up and put him on the counter, which was exciting because usually he wasn't allowed to sit on anything that wasn't a chair or the floor. He decided to sit criss cross applesauce with Eddie in his lap so he wouldn't fall off and hurt himself. Mommy had put the medicine next to him, so he decided to pick it up and have a look.

“It looks like candy, Mommy,” he said, because it did. Mommy made a loud noise and snatched the bottle out of his hand. She started shouting at him, and she didn't usually shout ever.

“Connor! It is not candy and you do not touch it, is that clear? I don't want to see your hand anywhere near that bottle. You _don't_ touch that, and you _don't_ take any, understand? It's not for you! It's not your medicine!”

Mommy was being scary and Connor had to hide his face in Eddie because he was going to cry and Mrs Ji said big boys didn't cry so he wasn't going to cry he wasn't but Mommy was so scary because she didn't shout but she was shouting she wouldn't stop and now he was crying stop crying Connor be a big boy and Mommy was quiet now and her hand was on his shoulder and rubbing his back. It helped a little.

When he was calmer, Mommy was talking a lot quieter and she looked like she was about to cry. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to shout, it was just… you could have hurt yourself.” Her shoulders started shaking and Connor was pretty sure she was crying now. “I'm really sorry, honey. I'm sorry I wasn't a good mom, I'm sorry I didn't help you more, I'm sorry I was so terrible, I'm sorry for everything. But I did love you, remember that, okay? I loved you and Zoe so so much.”

Connor gave Eddie to Mommy because Eddie was good at drying tears. She said thanks and there was a long time before she stopped crying.

But she did. And then she gave Eddie back with a little smile. And she found a sippy cup and started heating milk, like nothing happened. It was very confusing.

“Mommy? It's OK.”

She turned back to him with a quiet “Hmm?”

“You said sorry a lot. It's OK. Everyone makes mistakes. But you can try again, right? That's what Mrs Ji says. If you make a mistake, you can try again and learn from it.”

Mommy looked out into nothing. Connor didn't like the quiet. It was frightening. “I know I'm just a little kid and I don't know a lot, but I don't… I don't think you're a bad mom. You do good hugs and you're nice to me. You fix up all my scratches and when I'm sad you can make me feel a little better. That's what good mommies do, right? And I love you too.”

Mommy poured the milk into the cup, put the lid on, and gave it to Connor. Connor said thank you and started drinking while Mommy petted his back. It felt nice.

Connor wanted to know what Mommy was doing with the medicine, but he was scared of what would happen if he said anything about it. So he said, “Are you gonna have some warm milk?”

“No, honey. It's just for you.”

“Well, are you gonna drink _something_? It's not fair that I get a drink and you don't.”

“I… I don't know. I thought I was, but I'm not sure.”

None of this made any sense at all. Connor just didn't want to be the only one drinking something. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was thinking about getting a drink from the basement, a special drink for grown-ups, but I don't know if I want one anymore,” she said. Connor still didn't get it but oh well. Then, all of a sudden, “You know what? I think I will have some warm milk. It smells so good, I can feel myself getting more tired already. I just have to put this,” she said, picking up the medicine bottle, “back in the medicine cabinet.”

Connor nodded his head. Mommy came back a little while later, and she seemed different. Springier but she also looked a little sadder. Connor was really sleepy from the milk, though, so maybe he was imagining it. He fell asleep on the counter before Mommy was even done with her milk, using Eddie as a pillow.

He woke up all tucked up in bed. Somehow, he wasn't scared anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting through this fic! Leave a comment if you want and I'm @the-third-flower-is-yellow on Tumblr if you want to scream at me there. I hope you liked it but you didn't have to.


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